The Lake of Velum de Morte
by booksandtumblr
Summary: On a lovely day in Brooklyn, three little sisters trailed back home to find their father dead, their innocence lost. Sucked into the world of Shadowhunters, Azalea, Electra and Izara Blackstern is then forced and trained to be shadowhunters, but before they do, the Clave and Magnus realize there is something different about these three girls- something that could cost their life.
1. Prologue, Part 1

Three little girls were laughing along the sunny bright roads of Brooklyn, all three of them with matching hair; they were all sporting a side french braid tied with pink ribbons. Carrying similar backpacks in a bright, alarming red color, walking back from school. The three little girls were sisters- all with the same Asian ethnicity, shining jet black hair and dark brown eyes that looked like black holes in space. Their pale, porcelain faces and full, thick brows gave the girls a sweet, innocent look. One was slightly taller than the other two, being the older sister of the trio.

The other two, well, were fraternal twins, but they both did not look exactly the same.

'Do you think we'll have chocolate chip cookies for snacks today?' Izara Blackstern asked ruefully, her mouth watering by the thought of her mother's freshly cooked chewy cookies.

'I hope so.' Electra Blackstern said, the youngest of the trio- she was the other twin, being younger than Izara by a minute. 'There should be some leftovers from last week. It's weird, why does mine always look more redder than your and Azalea's cookies?'

Azalea Blackstern, the oldest sister bit her lip unconsciously. Electra notices and pokes her big sister's arm. 'Is there something wrong?'

She stops biting and stares at Electra as if she was a deer in the middle of Manhattan.

'I'm in trouble with mommy.' She whispers. 'I didn't finish my breakfast.'

Izara gasps as if that was the worst thing anyone could have done. 'How could you? It was pancakes, your favorite!'

Azalea sighs as a sign of surrender. 'Something doesn't feel right.' she said. 'I don't think mommy's home.'

Izara blinked at her as if she was crazy. 'Of course she is!' she said, in a uneven voice, kicking a piece of crumpled receipt on the floor.

Electra, with the talent of telling if someone was lying, eyed Izara suspiciously. 'You're lying, are you? Mommy told us to never lie! Of course mommy is going to be home. I'm sure of it.' But Electra looked pale, as if she was about to faint.

Azalea stares at her worriedly but brushes it off. 'What about this? Let's just go home and check. We're almost there.'

For the rest of the five minutes walk, all three little sisters, who were laughing and prancing along the sidewalk was now quiet, all hoping whatever they knew was not going to happen. When they arrived to their apartment, they all looked at each other- all thinking the same question: _Is their mother home? _

Azalea, then opens the door with her key that her mother gave her when she was six. The door made a slow _click _sound and Azalea takes a deep breath.

Slowly, her hand pushes the door backwards, and she screams.

'What is it?' Izara said, scared.

'Step back, Aria.'

'No! I want to see-'

'-Izara Raynwill Blackstern, step back!'

And after Azalea shouted those words, Electra croaked.

'Help me.' and her eyes closes.

Azalea turns her head sharply and her bushy eyebrows rise up, and catches Electra before she falls.

'What happened to her?' Izara cried, close to tears.

'She's fine, she's just tired.' Azalea snapped. Izara takes a step back, startled; she never saw her big sister be so _vicious _and mean.

Azalea, then breaks down and cries, blocking Izara's view of the apartment.

'What is it?' Izara whispers, gently shoving her sister over, and then she screams at the highest pitch possible.

Even when fainted, Electra sheds a tear as if she knew what was going on; and all three sisters, who kneel or lay on the hard wooden floor, faces their _father _laid dead, his ribcage violently cracked in half, his organs missing, and his skull cracked. Behind him left a trail blood and their dad's broken glasses.

And at this moment, after the tears were shed and the day was over, you will never see these three sisters shed a single tear _ever again_.


	2. Prologue, Part 2

prologue,

part two

Izara Blackstern (POV)

_Note: Firstly, these are written during present day, so they are basically fifteen. Secondly I know these Prologues are short but they are written to be a little bit like a short story before you actually get to the actual part. I promise I'll finish Part 3 and 4 by tomorrow- And post them at the latest on Saturday. Thanks :) - N.M P.S. If there is any grammatical mistakes please tell me, cause I wrote this in the bus and I was quite dizzy. _

Everything happened in a blur. It wasn't like a chain of events happening all at once; It was the different kind; It felt like I was growing up from being an innocent six year old in pigtails to a mature, deadly fifteen year old.

I remember every week our mother would cook us cookies- Electra always had special cookies because she was our mom's favorite- it looked very much redder than mine or Azalea's. We didn't know why. But now we do.

Our father was a kind, loving father. He always took us out to the park to play before it turned dark; he always said, and I quote _'There are many dangerous creatures in the dark, especially in the park.'_ Azalea would always interrupt him and say, 'Vampires?'

Father always hesitated, but then said 'Yes, vampires.' Azalea would always shudder, and say 'I'm never going to the park during night.' Now we know why he warned us.

After we found our father dead, Electra hasn't woken up yet; it wasn't long until some people came to our house. They knocked on the door. I shouted at them and told whoever it was to go away, and they informed us they were there to help. Azalea, who was the only one tall enough (with the help of a chair) could peer into the eyehole, and told us it was a few strangers with swords behind their backs and swirly tattoos on their skin.

'Maybe it's permanent.' I said, scuttling. 'Mommy always told us not to trust people with permanent tattoos.'

'No, look-' Azalea carried me up to the eyehole, and I understood. One of the hooded strangers had a tattoo, but it was fading, as if it was sinking into her skin. My six-year-old me decided it was okay to open the door to these strangers; Biggest mistake I've ever made.

Once I opened it, they all bustled in like bees and we were flowers. They started talking secretively, taking out their sensors, and their _swords and axes? _I thought, and I shouted at them.

'_GET OUT!' _I screamed, but they all ignored me. One even took Electra, and I screamed, again. He drops Electra, thankfully not at a high height, but strong enough for Electra to bleed- he shouted at me;

'Jesus Christ you don't have to scream that loud!'

'Where are you taking my sister?' I demanded, while I tugged his coat.

'I'm healing, her you idiot.' He shouted back at me, and I crawl back in fear.

'Now now, Carttrell. No need to get mad at anyone here.'

Carttrell mutters something under his breath- I didn't understand it before; gruffly took out a flask filled with honey like liquid and literally just opened my sister's mouth and shoves it, forcing her to drink it.

I tried to scream again to distract him, but Azalea covered my mouth, and instructed me to sit down.

After my sister finished the drink, she still laid still, almost lifeless.

'Did he kill her?' Azalea whispered to a stranger, written all over in runes and grasping on a stele.

'No.' even the then stranger looked confused. 'It's supposed to wake her up.'

Then there was a man, he was Asian, and extremely tan, long, lean and strong, he wore midnight blue nail polish and his eyes were sparkling in all different kinds of colors- he had three ear piercings and he was wearing a long, luxurious dark emerald robe. He hurriedly walked towards Electra, who was still laid on the floor- he muttered something under his breath and then Electra woke up- we had no idea what happened, but now we know.

We took a huge, dark car, thanks to Magnus, who was still a stranger to me then to the Brooklyn Institute- similar to the Manhattan one, It looked like a rusty old castle- I looked around, but no one could see it. A shadowhunter stepped forward and muttered _'I am Diana Fairwright, one of the Nephilim, and I ask entrance to the Brooklyn Institute-_

Magically, the doors opened and we, still little innocent girls gazed at amazement. We were rushed into the large, warm library filled with books, and all three of us were forced to sit down. Everyone else sat in front of us, Magnus, who I used to refer him as _the sparkly man _before I knew his name, squinted his eyes at Electra suspiciously.

The shadowhunters were all whispering among them leaving us out, until one of them- Diana Fairwright, first spoke.

'Firstly, I am so sorry for your loss.' she said, with a mock of sympathy in her voice. She had a thick, british accent, and every time she spoke, she ended it with a high note, which sounded like a question.

'I'm Diana Fairwright.' She exclaims, in a high authoritative voice. 'On behalf of the Clave, I am here to inform you that neither three of your are mun- humans.'

Azalea, whose glassy eyes stared innocently at Diana had a spark of fear.

'Then what are we?' She whispered, trembling.

'You are human. But you were born with Angelic blood. You are children of the Nephilim, or shadowhunters, as most prefer. You were born to hunt and kill demons, to rid the world of it.'

'Demons aren't real.' I huffed. I had to learn that the hard way.

Diana smirked but carried on, looking into the far distance. 'Whatever. But there is something wrong with all three of you. Your mother was a shadowhunter, but turned mundane. She broke the Convent, but that was after she had you. Did you remember her saying she was going on a long vacation?'

Electra nodded, and so did Azalea and me. We all remembered clearly. Mum and dad were arguing about something- we tried to eavesdrop but it proved too difficult. One day, mum walked out on us- she said she was going to Idris. But she came back, happier than ever. But that's when everything went wrong.

'She came to the Alicante, and had her runes stripped and her identity taken. She came back in a few days, no?'

We all nodded in sync.

'But on her journey home, she was possessed.'

'By what?'

'Demons.' Diana simply replied, while she avoided gazing at us.

'But why didn't the demon kill us then?' Electra asked.

'That is, unknown.' Diana said, but she looked at Electra with disgust. And now we know why. 'Azalea, you will be taken to Jehovah's Witnesses for experimentation.'

I stared at her in horror. 'What are you going to do to her?'

Magnus spoke, inaudibly, while all the other shadowhunters nodded in agreement.

'We're not going to tell you yet, but we'll promise you she'll be in safe hands.'

'But that's so far away.' Electra said in concern. 'It's in New York!'

'It won't be long.' Magnus said. 'Since everything's cleared, Larkbloom, take Azalea to the Witnesses, Izara, stay here. Electra, come with me.'


	3. Prologue, Part 3

prologue,

part three

Electra Blackstern

I first met Magnus Bane when I barged into our apartment, and he looked like he could've been my brother. When he and Diana confided to us we were shadowhunters, I despised him for ruining my life. But then, I realized I was just like him.

I remember walking down the dark, wooden hallways rolled out with maroon red carpets, lined with doors that could lead me to anywhere. Following Magnus obediently, he didn't even care to glance at me if I was following him- also, he left a tiny trail of glitter from his robe while walking.

He finally stopped in the dining room, and he takes a sit, while I remember awkwardly standing there.

'Well, what are you waiting for?' He said lazily, with no effort. 'Sit.'

I glared at him and sat. The chair was made with red velvet and spray painted wood- the best luxury we'd ever had in a few years.

'I'm Magnus Bane,' he said. 'High Warlock of Brooklyn, maybe more commonly as a downworlder.'

'My father told me about you. Vampires, Werewolves, Warlocks. You look pretty normal to me.'

He grins. It wasn't harsh like as if he was scowling, he actually did look like I complimented him.

'Thank you. But we're not here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you.'

I crossed my arms. 'Why? I already know about me being a shadowh- whatisitcalle-'

'-shadowhunter.' Magnus corrected. I scowled at him and moved on-

'There's nothing else to tell me.'

Magnus then crossed his arms in a similar fashion to mine. 'Did you wonder why you fainted when your sister found your father's body?'

'Because I was nervous?' I guessed, and I shrugged. 'Not a big deal. I faint all the time.'

'Have you ever wondered why?'

'Because I was scared of blood?' I said. My voice was got higher and higher. I was panicking, of course. How else was I supposed to react anyway? I fiddled with my fingers and beads of sweat fell from my hair. Magnus who obviously saw my nervousness took a deep breath and started again.

'You're a Warlock. Also, you're a High Warlock of Brooklyn.'

My jaw dropped. Obviously, I couldn't be two things at once. Well, I am, but anyway-

'But aren't I a shadowhunter?'

'You're one of a kind. You're a Warlock _and _a shadowhunter.'

'Is that even possible?'

Magnus hesitated. 'It's never been done before, so you _can possibly _die.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Stop it. Please.'

'I'm sorry.' And this time Magnus almost sounded sincerely worried. 'This isn't going to be easy for you. But you're going to have a new sibling.'

'Tell me, was I born a Warlock Shadowhunter?'

'No. Your possessed mother baked you chocolate chip cookies all the time, right?'

'Yeah. Every week.'

'Your cookies tasted like crap, correct, no?'

'Yeah... So?'

'Demon blood. She's been feeding you demon blood. And not just any demon blood. The King of Hell's blood.'

So who's my new sibling, you ask?

May I introduce you to me half brother, Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn.


	4. Prologue, Part 4 (Last part)

prologue,

part four

Azalea blackstern

The shadowhunter that kidnapped; well took me to Jehovah's Witnesses never made it to Jehovah- I recall shouting and screaming at him, but he ignored me, calling me a spoiled brat. He gave up and stuffed me into a old toyota car and started to drive. I sat in the back seat- I recall he also did put ducktape on my face to shut me up. But that didn't really help- He found out I was the unusual before he could get to Witnesses.

'Mmhmmmh!' I said, while Larkbloom took a turn in Manhattan. 'Mmmmh!'

'Oh shut up!' Larkbloom shouted at me. 'Oh my angels, why did I volunteer to do this?'

Conveniently positioned right behind him, I kicked the seat, furious and he stopped the car abruptly once he saw the red traffic light.

Larkbloom sighed and turned around. 'You want the ducktape of your mouth?'

I nodded.

He stretches to the passenger seat and

_Riipp!_

The ducktape ripped off my mouth in less than a second- and did it hurt-

'Ow! That hurt!' I whined. 'You're so mean.'

'I slay the sons and daughters of Lucifer.' he retorted. 'It's in the job description.'

'Lucifer?'

'You know what-' he waved as a sign of dismissal- 'forget it. I'm just going to take you to Jehovah's and-'

I hissed at him, and he then stared at me. Grey, smokey mist came out of my mouth- it smelled like an old attic somewhat, and Larkbloom tried to fan it away. My head crooked and hands stopped moving.

'Azalea? I'm going to get in so much troubl-'

My skin started to turn as white as white pure cotton, and I hissed out the words slowly out at him:

_'Tu ad diem mortis,_

_somnum militia caelorum_

_Daemones repunt super,_

_Angeli corruet,_

_et tres soroes parum occursum _

_eorum fati.'_

'Oh my Angels.' Larkbloom said, his face turning as white as I was. 'No need to go to Jehovah's anymore. We're going back.'

I remember smiling weakly and croaking an _okay, _but after that, everything turned black.

'Hello?'

'Azalea, wake up!'

'Wake up.'

My eyes opened instantly; and three faces were staring back at me, Electra, Izara and Larkbloom. Izara, with her crooked smile started talking. We were back at Brooklyn Institute, and behind them was the other members of the Clave, and Magnus Bane, looking as sparkly as ever.

'Did you know you're a prophet? That's so cool!'

'A what?'

Larkbloom, on the other hand did not smile- even a bit. His ginger-brown hair just earned a few streaks of grey, his tall, muscular figure slouched, sitting on the table.

'A prophet is usually chosen. I don't think he would have ever chosen a shadowhunter ot be a prophet- it's too much for any human to handle.' Larkbloom explained. 'It's hard to put this in the right words, but you're a mistake. You were not meant to happen.'

_I'm writing Chapter 1 right now, where Electra and Izara are fifteen, and Azalea is 16. Hope you liked the extremely long prologue hehe sorry :) -N.M._


	5. Chapter 1

I

the insane

chapter

one

ten years later

'Magnus, you're throwing another party tonight? You just had one last month!' Izara whined, as she slouched on the white leather couch. She picks up a piece of shining hard candy from a glass bowl, examining it before she ingests it.

'I wouldn't eat that if I were you.' Electra, now fifteen, warned- she was clipping on a sparkling ivory black barrette in her hair. 'It'll make you glow for the next twenty four hours.'

Izara rolls her eyes and hastily puts it back in the transparent bowl. 'But seriously though Magnus. How are you going to host one _tonight? _You just sent your invitations this morning.

He shrugs, and he grabs two pots of sparkling eye glitter he got from Target. He raises it for Electra. 'Gold or silver?'

'Definitely silver. I'm wearing gold.' she replied, snatching the golden pot from Magnus.

He scowls at Electra, who ignores him. 'I liked it when we matched. Too old for me, right? You loved matching eyeshadow colors with me when you were little.'

'I'm never too old for you.' Electra retorted, but she gave a snide smile. 'You're like, seven hundred years old. And fine. I'll match with you.'

'Oh stop fighting, you two.' Azalea said, yawning. She scratched her head and shoved Izara over. 'We should head back to the Institute. We'll come back at seven.'

Magnus, now in his plum purple silk bathrobe walks out, his eyes already feathered with silver eyeshadow.

'Here sis, the eyeshadow.' he throws the pot to Electra, and she catches it. 'And by the way, even though I am your sister, you in your bathrobes, while _my _sisters are here- ew Magnus.'

'What? This robe was expensive.' He whined. 'I've gotta show it off.'

Azalea laughs in dismissal and all three sisters waved Magnus goodbye, walking back to the Brooklyn Institute.

'I am Izara Blackstern, one of the Nephilim, and I ask entrance to the Brooklyn Institute.'

The heavy metal chained doors creaked open and all three sisters, unimpressed by the door now walks in, and they all headed to the training center.

The training center in Brooklyn was large, walled with silver metal, had murky brown leather chests filled with weapons- seprah blades, knives, axes- you name it, it's somewhere inside.

The room was brightly lit with modern electricity, and rows and rows of dummies in all shapes and sizes, demons to rogue downworlders, were waiting to be stabbed.

'We really have to practice?' Electra mutters, picking up the sharpest knives of the chest, sharpening it, creating a screeching sound.

'Rogue vampires or werewolves could be anywhere.' Azalea said importantly. 'Better brush up on our skills. We haven't practiced in two days.' She grins and snatches two thin, silver axes, while Izara plays around with her naginata. They then all close the chest, and opened a special one- black, leather bounded with a gigantic lock. Using her stele, Electra unlocks it with a special rune especially designed for the rusty chrome lock. Inside laid tens of seraph blades, but they especially picked a few.

Electra picked two sharp, short and thin seraph blades , the handles in a ivory black, just like her eyes, both with an engraving. One said _Gabriel _in golden letteringand the other, much newer, read _Samael. _She sticks one into her belt and the other behind her back.

Azalea grabbed hers- the both of her seraph blade's handle was made out of gold and chrome. It had bronze engraving that read _Metatron _and _Azrael_. Of course, last Izara already had her seraph blades, and took it out- this time, the handles of her blades were delicately drawn with swirls and strokes of silver.

They all three stand in front of their lanes, with the dummies in place.

Of course, being trained to kill for the last ten years, each throw or swipe was perfect, but they all depended on each other to survive; They were once little girls with a bright future- now they were shadowhunters with a dark past.


End file.
